Of Fishmongers and Sparklers
by Village Hall
Summary: Loker finds himself thrust into the war between Cal and Rader. Gillian gets involved, and cracktiems are had. Also, Cal sparkles and Loker is suddenly in the mood to avenge a murder.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So... I don't even really know how this happened. Bottom line - here it is: crack a la mode. Much thanks to Aleia Jade for convincing me that this was a good idea and corrupting my mind.

* * *

"Psst, hey! Loker!" Torres whispered.

Loker turned to find his coworker standing in the only alcove invisible to the cameras.

"Stay after work tonight," she said, so quietly that he had to strain his ears to hear her.

"Ria, what –"

"_Not now_," she said firmly. "Later. After everyone else is gone. Stay." She bustled off into the ladies' room, the one place he wouldn't follow her. Loker glared at her retreating back. She knew he had a phobia of bathrooms.

Left to his own devices, Loker wandered aimlessly down the hallway, thinking that maybe it'd be a good idea to go to his office. It seemed like the good stuff always happened while he was in there, and though that usually meant that he missed most of the excitement, at least he had his porn. He wondered what Torres wanted. Did she want to have sexytiems with him? Wait a second, what about the cameras? Ooh, she was an exhibitionist. He suppressed a shiver of anticipation.

Yes, this could turn out to be a _very_ interesting evening. Goodness knew they needed some excitement in their lives after recent developments.

* * *

It was nine o'clock that evening, and Loker watched as the elevator doors closed behind the last overworked secretary. Satisfied that she had finally gone home, he slipped out from behind his stakeout pillar and headed to Torres' office – their planned meeting spot. He had to resist rubbing his hands together with glee. He _knew_ that something good had to come out of the Rader merge.

Although – Loker paused for a moment, leaning against the super-clean glass walls. He missed Lightman. He'd never believed in the clichéd idea that you don't know what you have until it's gone – certainly not when it came to his former boss. But with that cranky bastard gone – it just wasn't the same. He'd contemplated leaving, but where would he go? Rader? Wouldn't have done any good – just two weeks after Lightman's untimely death, Foster had declared the company merger with the Rader firm.

Torres' voice cut the contemplative air like a knife.

"Loker!" she hissed. "What are you doing?"

He looked up to see her strutting toward him in those fantastically high heels of hers.

"Oh, sorry," he said despondently. "Was just thinking."

"Well, cut it out! We'll be late!"

Loker immediately felt his nostalgia vanish with a puff of smoke, and felt himself get slightly aroused. They were going to an orgy? Now _that_ was uncharted territory. He looked down at his jeans. He was sure he wasn't dressed appropriately. Ah, well. Too late now.

"So, where is this shindig?" he asked casually as Torres dragged him down the hallway by the arm.

"Cal's… I mean, Rader's office. And keep it down, you'll scare it away."

An orgy in Rader's office? Wait a second. Something wasn't processing here.

"Scare it away? Scare _what_ away?" Loker was really, really confused.

"In here, come on," Torres wrenched open Rader's office door and he cautiously followed her inside.

It was dark. Really, really dark. He held his hand in front of his face experimentally and couldn't see his fingers.

"One sec," he heard Torres say. At least he could still hear. Then, suddenly –

"OW!" He covered his eyes with his still-raised hand. "You could have warned me that I was about to get blinded!"

"Yeah, well, didn't you know that she likes surprising you? Gets off on the false sense of power, that one does. Though you didn't have to turn on the UV lamp, too, Torres."

Loker froze, then slowly lowered his hand. Unless he was very much mistaken, there was a very much living and breathing Cal Lightman sitting in front of him. Except for the fact that his skin seemed to be sparkling a bit, he seemed to look just the same as the day he died. Besides for – whoa. Loker took a step back. _That_ was a man he'd go for – heck, he was sure any man would. Lightman's features were more defined, as though he'd been cut from stone. He watched as he got up from the couch. His movements were lightning fast, yet so graceful they seemed almost impossibly entrancing.

"What- what happened to you?" Loker stuttered.

"Come with me. Only you, Eli."

Loker stared at him.

"Come with me," Cal repeated, and opened the window and jumped out. Still hanging on to outside wall of the building, he closed it neatly behind him before dropping easily to the ground. Loker and Torres ran over to the window and looked down to the ground below. Lightman beckoned to him with his finger one last time before seemingly disappearing into the night.

Loker looked around at Torres, who seemed absolutely terrified.

"Don't go with him, Eli!" she said urgently. "You don't know what he is, or what he'll do to you! Cal is _dead_, Loker, but I've been seeing him here the past few nights. All he's ever said before now is your name, so I figured I'd better bring you here."

"What am I supposed to do, then, ignore him? I have to go, Ria, and you can't stop me."

Loker left the office, closing the door on Torres. He heard a crash from inside, but didn't bother going in to investigate lest he lose his resolve. He was _doing_ this. For the former Lightman Group, for his former employer, for himself – he was going to find out what made Cal Lightman sparkle.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: If you haven't gotten the Hamlet/Twilight parallels/parodies yet, now would be a good time as any. Incidentally, dropping a review to let me know if this is accomplishing its purpose would also be greatly appreciated. I can _see_ all of you lurkers, you know. And thanks (again) to Aleia Jade for, well, everything.

* * *

Loker strutted purposefully to the elevator. He briefly wondered why everyone at the company always seemed to strut (with the occasional swagger), but passed it off as one of those social anomalies to be analyzed at a later date. Entering the elevator and stabbing the button for the lobby furiously, he mentally shook himself. There was work to be done, though as of yet he wasn't quite sure _what_. That was up to the strange, glittering version of the boss he had once known.

He walked out of the building into the chilly night air, pulling up his collar and wrapping his (admittedly, rather thin) coat around him. Peering into the strangely ominous mist, he suddenly spotted Lightman leaning against the wall right next to him. Loker jumped backward several feet and made a mental note to change it to inches in later renditions of the encounter, radical honesty be damned.

"Is that an orange slushie?" Loker asked, pointing at the sixty-four-ounce cup Lightman was holding in his hand. Lightman slurped some of the liquid through a straw.

"No. Why would I be drinking an orange slushie?" Lightman gave him a strange look.

"I dunno, just seems like that's all anyone ever drinks around here," Loker mumbled.

"Well, come on, let's get somewhere safe before anyone else ends up in the hospital. Or, you know, dead." Lightman motioned for Loker to follow, then led him to a dark, deserted alleyway.

"_This_ is safer?" Loker asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah," Cal said sadly. "I can't protect that many people at once, you know. Not that I'd really care to – but it would attract too much attention if dozens of ambulances started showing up."

Loker gathered his resolve. Yes, Lightman was intimidating. But he had to know.

"Did you ever sleep with Foster?" he asked confidently. After all, Lightman was dead, right? Must be a ghost or something. Nothing he could do to him now. But… well… if looks could kill – he was sure the one Cal was giving him now would do it.

"Don't test me," Lightman said dangerously. "I'm on a short leash as it is." It suddenly occurred to Loker that perhaps he could lessen his confusion.

"What's going on?" he asked. "You were dead – poisoned yourself, right? And then Rader and Foster merged the companies, and you were just – gone. How are you here now, then? Ghosts don't exist, do they? Are you alive? Have you spoken to Foster? Have you spoken to Rader? Does anyone besides for Torres and me know that you're- you're- whatever you are? Do you –"

"Oh, _would you shut up already_?" Lightman interrupted him. "Alright, alright, I'll answer your questions. But only because it's the only way you'll shut up without me ripping your tongue out, and I do have some last vestiges of human sympathy. Or maybe I just need you to avenge me."

Loker stared at him, open-mouthed. "Human sympathy? You're not human? You want me to avenge you?"

"Seriously, Loker. I really need to keep you alive, so shut up if you know what's good for you, because my patience is wearing thin." He paused, waited for Loker's nod of acquiescence, then continued.

"I'll begin with my current state, because that's easier for me to explain. Once you become a vampire, you see, your human memories begin to fade." Loker opened his mouth at this, but was quickly closed it at Lightman's look. He continued. "It was only by careful examination of my hazy memories that I managed to recall anything at all. Human emotions, however, remained with me, and they overpower me at my most vulnerable. To really move on and accept the fate of my kind, I must resolve what was left over from my life and murder. Yes, murder, Eli, did you really think that I, of all people would have committed suicide? Did no one question, wonder?"

"Well, Foster did say that it was odd, but after the merger and Rader and everything else she sort of got quiet," Loker said hesitantly.

"The merger and Rader and everything else," Lightman repeated. "What do you mean?"

Suddenly, an anvil dropped out of the sky, falling directly toward Loker's head. Cal jumped up, caught it, and crushed it to pieces with a long-suffering sigh.

"Okay, _what _just happened?" Loker exclaimed. "That anvil was going to kill me, and then I barely saw you move, but it's now a pile of powder!"

"All in due time, young Eli," Cal said. "First, explain what you meant."

"Oh. Well, I was just talking about her relationship with Rader. First they became partners, and now… well… they're talking about moving in together. The whole office is talking about it – Torres caught them kissing in the hallway last week, and now apparently their relationship is getting serious."

"After _a week_?" Lightman sounded doubtful. "I know – knew – Gillian, and she never rushed into anything."

"Yeah, well, from the way they were making out it seemed like –"

"Oi! I don't need to hear all the gory details, yeah?"

"Lightman?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you always speak like that?"

"I'm British, you moron. I speak differently," Cal said condescendingly.

"You'd think that after almost twenty years of living in the states you'd have picked up on some of the nuances of American speech."

"I can't do this with you right now, Loker. Back to the matter at hand. It'll be dawn soon."

Loker checked his watch. "Dawn? It's only twelve-thirty!"

"It's kind of difficult to find a good forest to hide in for the day around here. I need time to get there."

"Why can't you be around during the day? Hey, wait a minute – you said you're a _vampire?_"

"See? Knew you'd get us back on track eventually." Cal clapped him lightly on the back, and Loker gagged on a mouthful of mud before noticing that he was now lying facedown on the ground. He felt a cold, stony hand pull him up.

"Sorry about that, mate. Forget my own strength."

Loker spluttered, spitting out the mud. "That actually didn't taste as bad as I thought it would."

"Anyway, to make a _very_ long story short – I'm a vampire. I was nearly dead when I was found by the person who turned me. Skilled, Rodrigo is. He's teaching me how to live – how to _really_ live, as one of our kind. Came up with another body on moment's notice, transformed his face into mine. That's his special power, or whatever you want to call it. He's a master of disguise. Mine, apparently, is the uncanny ability to put humans in mortal peril just by standing within fifty feet of them. It's a great one." Cal wrinkled his nose and slurped his cup again.

"So… you kill people and drink blood and stuff," Loker said slowly.

"Yeah, you didn't see the red eyes?" Cal widened them dangerously. Loker'd noticed them earlier, but he'd figured that it was one of those dead-people quirks. Apparently, not all dead people were alike.

"And I'm not drinking air, you know," Lightman continued, nonchalantly taking another pull from his cup. "If I wasn't drinking blood this whole time, I'd probably have eaten you while we were still sitting in my office."

Loker felt the alley begin to spin around him, then steadied himself in time to notice another anvil falling toward him impossibly fast. This time Lightman jump-kicked it, and it smashed into pieces against the concrete wall behind him.

"Anyway," Lightman said with another glance at his watch, "I need you to kill Rader for me."

"What?" Loker exclaimed. "Why?"

"Because he murdered me, and had the impudence to set it up as a suicide. And if you don't, I'll see to it that you and everyone you love die a more painful death than you can possibly imagine. Hey, I said I kept some of my human sympathy – not all of it."

Loker fainted.


End file.
